Volytar had not been that young when he had first met Lord Vader, he had faced down the dark lord alongside his master after the sith had tracked the fleeing Jedi to Hoth. Instead of fighting however the padawan had accepted Vaders offer to join him and cut down his old master. He glanced at the lightsaber the hung on his belt, it was swaying gently like a pendulum as the Inquisitorius shuttle's gravity adjusted. He put a hand on it to cease its movements and rose to his feet, ducking into the cockpit, he glanced at the Imperial security personel "Inform Imperial center that we are on approach." he stepped back into the passenger compartment.

"Space control this is shuttle Alpha-Two-Omega requesting the lowering of the planetary shield, code clearence blue."

"This is Imperial Space control, hold at your position, you can approach when clearence is granted"

Volatyr glanced at the other Inquisitors that shared the compartment with him "Are you ok Master?" he glanced down at one of his apprentice Inquisitors and waved a dissmissive hand.

"It is nothing." it wasn't however a lance of searing hot pain was driving into his body, the wound that lay horizontal accross his back was flaring up again like a bad memory, he would have never have had to suffer this recurring pain, but Lord Vader had ensured the wound was left to heal unaided, it was a reminder never to lower his guard again.

Volatyr has arrived above coruscant

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"This is Imperial Space control, you may procced the shield is lowering."

"Inteligence will not be pleased that the Inquisitorius are back you know that Master?"

"Of course" Volatyr hissed, mirth slipping into his voice "Jendob cause our deactivation when dear old Tremayn was accused of treason, it is only kind of us to return so we can repay the favour." he chuckled "The Supream Moff must have had his reasons for killing Tremayn and my concerns are not on this matter anyway, my concern is that I am not late for Emperor.[i]"

The shuttle banked as it dropped into Coruscants lower atmosphere and headed towards Imperial palace, settling down on a secure landing pad it lowered its hatch disgorging Volatyr and his two apprentices, he marched past the waiting guards and followed a well paced route to the throne room. Volatyr stopped, a legion of Royal Guard stood between him and the Emperor. "[i]Stay here" he ordered the pair behind him and approached the first checkpoint on the hall towards the throne, he handed his lightsaber to the waiting guardsman and approached the throne untill he could kneel close enough to Vader to hear the Emperor but not agitate the guard.

Only a fool would make an attempt against the Dark Lord of the Sith, "My Lord, the Inquisitorius has returned to your side as duly summoned."

All surrounded his essence. He had been a man once, a powerful one. But he was cut down by a usurper, and even then, there were those planning to usurp he who unseated the undisputed ruler.

But the existence after death was... barely any existence at all. There was no sight, no sound, no scent, no taste, no touch, and yet there was a maddening awareness beyond all five of the basic senses.

However, by chance, he had learned his miserable lot in the afterlife would come to an end. But to bring it about, his essence required a host. Fortunately, there was one passing by now.

The poor fool was some nameless, useless officer, wandering about on his drudgerous duties. He was instantly overwhelmed by the surge into him, his own spirit obliterated by the sheer power and shock of the violation.

For a moment, the new presence basked in the sensations of corporeal form. It felt each blood cell pumping through its new veins, arteries, and capillaries. Oxygen flowed into his nostrils, down to his trachea in a cool rush, warming up from the ambient heat and moisture. He felt lungs expand for the first time in several years, and had to voluntarily exhale. After a few moments, it became autonomous, and the presence turned his attention to the other senses. He felt the cloth of the uniform against his newly acquired skin, the cap on his head… and hair? Yes, it was hair under the cap. He ran his fingers under his cap, feeling his cap, hair, and scalp.

How much the living take for granted, he mused.

He took a step, and staggered. Walking would take some getting used to, especially walking on legs that weren’t frail and required manipulation of the Force to employ. However, the presence was a quick study, and soon was striding confidently in its new host body down the corridors of the Imperial Palace.

He had a mission, a purpose. He would retake what was rightfully his, what was stolen from him in an imbecilic rite of ascension that was never supposed to occur after his own. And his usurper would pay, dearly.

But even as he moved forth, the presence knew his current form would not last. He felt his immense power, honed by hate and rage in the attempt to merely retain his identity, corroding his host frame. He needed a body used to such powers, tapped or otherwise before he regained his own, true form. Until either was found though, he calculated he could thrive off minions like the one he occupied for a few days at a time. This one would die on his departure, perhaps a more strong-willed entity would still leave something to inhabit the broken ruin he would leave behind on exiting that future host.

But he would no longer be restricted to clinging to some artifact, eking out a bodiless existence with no time, no senses, nothing but the darkness of impending oblivion. He would never be the victim again; instead, the entire universe would be his. For he was the predator, they were the prey. Their lives were forfeit for him, for the simple fact that none could withstand his power, and the weak will always kneel to the strong.

Soon, the Galaxy would see that no matter how many pocket battleships they had, no matter how many command ships, cruisers, destroyers, frigates, and fighters it possessed, they were nothing next to his powers. And he desperately hoped they chose to learn the hard way.

Admiral Einar Bahir entered the massive entrance to the Imperial Palace. It was bustling with activity, as usual. He looked about, watching the everyone go about their duties. He headed for the main desking, putting on a smile for one of the receptionists.

"Greetings." Said the receptionist. "What business to you have at the Imperial Palace?"

"I am Admiral Einar Bahir of the Imperial Navy. Are there any commanding officers in?"

"What do you mean, sir?"

"Admirals, Generals, Moffs. "

If someone wants to have a nice chat with Einar, please finish his conversation with the receptionist._________________

Admiral Einar Bahir
Galactic Empire

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"Yes, Grand Admiral. That would be most desireable. You see, since returning from the Unknown Regions with Grand Admiral Thrawn, I have been without anything to do what so ever. It is quite dulling on the senses to sit in an apartment all the time."

"But I digress. Any command you could give me would be an honor."_________________

I eyed the man carefully. "So, I take it your current 'desk job' is insufficient?" I commented, not bothering to hide my sarcasm. "Admiral Zend's Sector Group needs several commanders. I think you'll fit in well, Admiral."_________________Grand Admiral Uric Treshan

Ysanne Isard paced up and down her office like a caged animal. Months since the war ended and she felt utterly useless. Rebel prisoners were released by that fool Jendob, and although she still had a few sources in the Rebellion, she didn't see how much good it would do now.

Still, there were a few ways she could cause trouble for the Rebel scum. And the best part was they'd never know...

Isard returned to her chair, and quickly began to work._________________Regent Ysanne Isard

I pulled the trigger on the E-11 rifle, and the brilliant scarlet blaster bolt connected with the sliding target at the far end of the range. More humanoid targets slid from the walls, and more tasted tibanna-fuelled bolts. Each target had five break-away sections, four in the torso, and one in the head, and all fifteen segments in the three different racks were gone before the moving racks reached the walls.

A few more minutes passed, with the targets moving slowly, and easily picked off at all three ranges. Not too much of a challenge... for certain people, at least.

We progressed through the other standard issue weapons, including the Repeater Rifle, C-1 Pistol, DH-17, SE-14, and AXM-50.

"Very good, Exarch. Please proceed to the Heavy Weapons section."

I put down the weapon. Heavies gave me some trouble, especially E-Webs in single-person crews. Also, rapid-fire weaponry without a selector switch wasn't very conducive to accuracy. Fortunately, the objective was usually "Blow up Speeder A from Speeder B."

I took the firing grips of the E-Web into my hands, and trained it on the target screen.

"Ready, m'lady?"

I growled under my breath. "Ready."

"Commencing exercise."

"Well, the usual scores, Ma'am. Perfect accuracy on rack tests, heavy losses inflicted on enemy infantry and light vehicles in the E-Web test, 5 tanks of six destroyed and one crippled in the missile test... Only 98 points on the target identification, ma'am?" The officer looked at me curiously.

I smirked sheepishly. "Yes, Lieutenant. I shot a hostage by mistake... twice."

He smiled knowingly. He was quite old for a lieutenant, probably in his mid-thirties. A mustang, most likely, and therefore managed to regain his sense of humor over the years. "Ah. Blaster on automatic again?"

"Well, at least this time it's just one hostage," I noted. "Just one. Maybe next year, I'll get 99?"

"Gods willing, Exarch."

Well, it was nice to know there was one more Imperial officer who wasn't a bigoted fool. He'd probably catch hell for it from some indoctrinated superior, but...

Ah, quit waxing philosophical. Besides, it was only 1300 hours. There was still a lot to be done._________________
Colonel Shayera Jendob - Chief of Security for Supreme Moff Jendob

"You depart immediately, Admiral, for Kuat. There you will find Admiral Taggart. He is in charge until Admiral Zend arrives," I informed Bahir.

This new unit would be our front-line combatant in the wars to come, as well as an excellent proving ground for the commanders in it... and a threshing floor to weed out the inept and inadequate officers._________________Grand Admiral Uric Treshan